


Gone In a Flash

by eeyore9990



Series: Big Bad John [4]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Deputy Stiles Stilinski, Derek has the worst luck, M/M, REALLY BAD MS PAINT ART, Sheriff is done with this shit, Stiles is a Little Shit, accidental flashing of a schoolbus full of children, bad stick figure art with badly drawn peen, mating games
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-08
Updated: 2014-05-08
Packaged: 2018-01-23 23:20:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 678
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1583099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eeyore9990/pseuds/eeyore9990
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles' incident reports make John rethink the department tradition of having the newest deputy fill them out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Gone In a Flash

**Author's Note:**

> I'm taking part in this year's [Mating Games](http://mating-games.livejournal.com) over on LJ. Go Team Alpha! 
> 
> For the Week 1 Bonus Round, I drew some *cough* LOVELY art (my team captain had no idea the pure artistic talent I was hiding...I'm the secret weapon, I tell ya!) and wrote a little ficlet to go along with it. The challenge was "to either show or tell me about a report that comes across the Sheriff's desk in Beacon Hills."

John pulled the stack of reports toward himself with a weary sigh, wondering what his idiot son had decided to do for his reports this week. Last week had been digitally attached videos of Stiles recreating the events in the reports through interpretive dance and oddly emotive charades. It had been enough to make John rethink the department tradition of having the newest deputy fill out the junk reports.

(He loved having Stiles working for the BHSD almost as much as he hated having Stiles working for the BHSD.)

The week before it had been sparkly purple pens, finger paints, and glitter gel.

This week appeared to be... actually. What the hell _was_ this?!

" _Stiles!_ " John bellowed, lifting the badly drawn stick figure painting. There was no way... there was _no way_...

Stiles' grinning face popped around the doorway to his office, his eyes glinting like he knew exactly what he was there for. The little shit. "Yo, daddio. Popsicle. Sherifferini. Huh, yeah, that last one needs work."

How the fuck had the State of California seen fit to trust his kid with a gun and the weight of the law? Oh, right. He'd vouched for Stiles.

The bottle of Jack on the shelf back at the house was calling his name sweetly from five miles away.

"Explain." John watched the room jump as his left eyelid twitched.

"I know, I know," Stiles said, waving one hand breezily while the other rested casually against his gunbelt. "I didn't get the proportions right at all. He's actually much bigger than that. But MS Paint is a bitch to work with, so..."

"I'm sure I told you to stop turning in reports like this."

"Au contraire, mon frere! You said I couldn't submit them in video form, or use any pen color that was not standard issue blue or black ink. You said _nothing_ about MS Paint." Stiles very obviously bit into the side of his cheek in an attempt to hold back the laughter that was shining in his eyes.

"A) I'm not your brother. B) You know exactly how you're supposed to fill out incident reports. C) You have two seconds to start explaining why your boyfriend isn't currently sitting in my mountain-ash-lined jail cell."

"You could tell it was Derek?" Stiles asked, stepping further into the office and gently closing the door behind him. 

"Well, besides the attention to detail you put into his hair, eyes, and ears, there's also the telling fact that you came in here waxing poetic about his dick. Which, let me just reiterate, I do NOT need to know about." Seriously. Hard liquor. _Now_.

"See, Dad—"

"Sheriff."

"Uh huh. It's like this. Derek went out in his bathrobe to get the paper. You know it was a bit... breezy today. Well, the breeze caught his robe tie, one of the neighborhood cats became unduly interested in the robe tie, one thing led to another.... The cat was gone in a flash." Stiles stopped there, a look of incredulity washing over his features before he bent double and cracked up laughing. "Pun... not... in... tended, oh my god!"

"Jesus Christ. I swear to fucking god, son. Your boyfriend has the worst fucking luck. Which explains how he ended up attached to you."

"Hey!"

"Did you call Judge Whittemore and explain the situation?"

"Yeah, Derek's going to volunteer at the animal shelter in town for a few months."

John rubbed at his tired eyes with his fingers and sighed. "The school? The _parents_?"

"Apparently none of the kids saw it, just the bus monitor."

"How is that even possible?"

"According to the bus monitor, they were all cooing over the cat, which was on the other side of the bus by the time Derek inadvertently exposed himself to them."

"Thank god for small favors." John shuffled the drawing to the bottom of the pile, then thought to ask, "What about the bus monitor?"

"When she found out he's my boyfriend, she said, and I quote, 'Well done.'"

"Jesus Christ. Get out of my office."

**Author's Note:**

> Are your eyes still bleeding? I'm so sorry.
> 
> Don't forget to return to [Mating Games](http://mating-games.livejournal.com) on Saturday to see a metric fuckton of incredibly well-written pornlets (ficlets of 500-750 words that have at least an R rating).


End file.
